


The Reappearance of a Memory

by Wiccy



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, M/M, Slash, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiccy/pseuds/Wiccy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter finds himself in Cork, Ireland with no memory and has become an adopted member of a somewhat shady family.  He and Caitlin are off to help Caitlin’s brother when they run into someone unexpected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Reappearance of a Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Through the end of Season One and about the first 2 maybe 3 episodes of Season 2.

Peter stared at the empty space in front of them, his eyes slanted in a squint of concentration. He didn't know why but, he felt like the air there was grinning at him.

“Peter?” the confusion in Caitlin’s voice was palpable.

He couldn't really blame her, he’d stopped so suddenly that even he wasn't sure why. There was just a feeling tingling at the base of his spine that told him that not everything was as it seemed. He blinked.

When he opened his eyes again they were no longer alone.

Before them, in the space previously occupied by smiling air was a tall, scruffy, mop-haired, homeless looking man. His bright blue eyes were dancing and the manic grin plastered between his large ears split his long face in half and Peter found himself wondering why this man looked so familiar.

After a beat, instinct kicked in and Peter moved his body between Caitlin and the new comer in an attempt to shield her from any harm. Peter continued to stare straight at the blue eyed man. The man just kept grinning.

“Peter,” her voice sounded small, tentative and worried, “what’s the matter? My brother’s waitin’ for us.”

Peter’s eye twitched and he cocked his black-haired head to one-side. 

“Don’t you see…” his words were cut short as blue eyes chuckled.

“No, she can’t,” a sharp Northern English accent cut through the air.

Peter knew that voice but he couldn't place why or from where. Maybe he should have opened the damned box when he’d had the chance. Beside him Caitlin jumped and stiffened. She’d definitely heard blue eyes speak. Her hand slipped into his. Blue eyes's smile faltered, just for a moment, and he moved forward.

The gasp that flowed over his shoulder told him that she could see him now too. She tugged at his hand, blue eyes was almost within range to reach out and touch him. He should move, back up, run, but his legs wouldn't comply. He was mesmerized by the shaggy figure moving toward him. The man stopped just short of invading Peter’s personal space and grinned down at him.

“Hello poodle, ja miss me?”

Peter didn't answer. He had no answer to give. He felt the urge to hug the man, or perhaps punch him in the gut, and he had no idea why. He could feel Caitlin’s eyes on him, but he still said nothing.

“Who are ya? Whadya want?” she asked finally, realizing that Peter wasn't going to.

The man chuckled again, although this time it was tinged with something other than amusement, some other emotion Peter couldn't quite name.

“I leave you alone for a few months and what do you do? You pick up more strays,” those strangely familiar blue eyes never left his face.

“I’m NOT a stray!” the violent indignation in Caitlin’s voice only caused the man to cry out in a short burst of laughter.

“We don’na have time for this,” she released Peter’s hand and took a few steps back. “Come on Peter, there’s another way ‘round.”

Peter didn't budge, “You know me?”

“Yeah, a fair bit,” was the answer as the man stopped grinning.

His blue eyes went hard and darted toward Caitlin. “What’d ya do to him?”

“I din'na do nothing to ‘em,” she folded her arms over her chest and frowned.

“You must've done something to him to make the pup forget ME!”

“Come Peter, let’s just go,” she moved to stand next to him again but she was too slow.

Peter issued a small yelp as the scruffy man reached forward and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, pulling him into his chest and taking several large steps backward. Caitlin’s steps faltered and her eyes darted around wildly.

“Peter?”

Peter pushed away from blue eyes enough to glance back over his shoulder at her. She was taking tentative steps forward as she scanned the area frantically. Peter turned a raised brow to the man holding him.

“Peter!” his name poured off her lips loud and desperate this time. 

Peter turned back toward her, “I’m ov…”

Peter wasn't able to finish his sentence as blue eyes forced him back around and smothered his words with a hard kiss. His moan of protest died in his throat as the older man’s mouth moved against his slightly parted lips. Peter’s eyes fluttered closed and vaguely he heard Caitlin yell for him again, followed by her heavy footfalls as she ran off, probably to find her brother.

A few long moments later the two men broke apart and let a small space grow between them. Peter slowly opened his eyes and, as the other man’s face slowly came back into focus, something suddenly clicked on inside his mind.

“Cl-Claude?” the name spilled from his mouth a half question, his pale brow folding in on itself in confusion.

Claude just grinned again. Peter lashed out with his balled fist and landed a solid blow to Claude’s midsection and the man doubled over with a muffled ‘ouff’. When he straightened himself up, he was laughing.

“STOP! Stop laughing! This isn't funny!” Peter spat, the seriousness in his usually soft, innocent eyes giving Claude pause. “You left me! I needed you! I needed you and you just up and left me!”

“I know,” he moved a little closer, “I never meant to hurt you.”

Peter looked on the verge of tears as he shook his head slowly, “Just tell me you’re sorry.”

“I am,” Claude told him in earnest. “I am sorry.”

Peter moved forward too, putting himself back into Claude’s personal space and reaching a hand up to cup the scruffy cheek, “Don’t do it again.”

“No,” Claude hushed just before he was pulled down into a fiery kiss.

Each man seemed to be pouring all those missing months worth of passion into that kiss in a flurry of lips, teeth and tongue, leaving them both panting for breath into each other’s mouths. One of Claude’s hands found its way up into Peter’s hair and gave a small tug. Their mouths detached though their arms stayed wrapped around each other.

“What’dya cut the hair for?” Claude asked.

Peter looked perplexed for a moment, “I, I don’t know. I don’t really remember what it was like before.”

“What DO you remember?”

“I remember you. Everything else is either gone or very fuzzy.”

“Well, in that case, just don’t let me go,” Claude laughed.

“Huh?” at Peter’s confusion Claude inclined his head, indicating that Peter should look down.

He did.

“JESUS!” the younger man yelped, pushing his body tighter into Claude’s and firming his hold on him, “You can fly?!”

Claude laughed again, the deep throaty sound rumbling through his chest and into Peter’s.

“No poodle, but you can.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally meant to be longer I think, but turned into this one-shot. Maybe if I can ever get back into these characters heads again, I'll write a follow-up.


End file.
